


Thieves and Riches

by AvoidingAverage



Series: Cops and Robbers [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And he is not happy about it, BAMF Jaskier, Banter, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Competent Jaskier, Cop Geralt, Damsel in Distress Geralt, Enemies to Lovers, Feral Jaskier | Dandelion, First Meetings, Flirting, Fluff, Humor, Jaskier | Dandelion Has a Past, M/M, Meet-Cute, Soft Jaskier | Dandelion, meet ugly, no powers, thief jaskier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22965805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvoidingAverage/pseuds/AvoidingAverage
Summary: Geralt is just trying to do a favor for an old friend when he finds himself tied up and shoved into a storage closet by a group of robbers.  There he meets Jaskier, an enigmatic cat burglar who is a little too good at teasing a reaction of the normally stoic detective.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Cops and Robbers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1650430
Comments: 36
Kudos: 855





	Thieves and Riches

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of what will hopefully be a series of one shots featuring my version of Cop Geralt against his romantic nemesis, the thief Jaskier. 
> 
> Oddly enough, I don't have lots of angst planned for this (although I wouldn't be surprised if it showed up later). So enjoy this fluffy, banter-filled, meet ugly. :)

Geralt was having a shitty night.

Not only was he working on one of his only days off as a favor to a friend, he had the great misfortune of being the  _ only _ guard on duty when a group of armed thugs decided to rob the place.

Yeah, he was gonna have some fucking words for Vesemir.

This was supposed to be a quiet night, he thought to himself as he was dragged past the American history exhibit back towards the storage area by three masked men. All he had to do was keep an eye on the security cameras and try not to sleep too much while he covered the night shift. The museum had enough security that he could relax knowing there were enough failsafes in place to give him plenty of warning should any idiot decide to make off with one of the ancient marvels or the gems in the Natural History section.

Of course, now that he’d seen the knowledgeable way the group was moving around the main floor without tripping any of the alarms, he was pretty certain that the usual night guard was either in on this or had more than a case of food poisoning keeping him from his shift. Clearly these were no average thieves hoping to raid the gift shop. They had chosen a night where the security would be thin and had rerouted the power to the alarm system so there was no warning when they’d entered through the side door.

Geralt hadn’t suspected anything more than a few dust bunnies when he’d begun to make his rounds through the empty corridors. He’d been enjoying the peace and quiet compared to his usual beat. Yennefer often teased him about secretly being an old man, but he appreciated an evening where he didn’t have to worry about someone shooting at him or shooting at someone else.

Which was why he was furious to turn a corner and come face to face with two men pointing a a pair of pistols at his face.

Yenn would never let him live this down.

He’d watched them take his service pistol and toss it to one of the others before pulling out a length of rope from one of their packs and trussing him up like a turkey. It was obvious that they didn’t want to risk him escaping and warning someone else because they’d even gone so far as to toss him inside a storage closet. He was going to take pleasure in hunting everyone of these bastards down.

“Fuck,” he huffed under his breath, as he worked to get his legs under him so he wasn’t laying facedown on the floor.

“Alas, my friend, I don’t think I can manage that at the moment,” a cheerful voice said somewhere nearby.

Geralt jerked, nearly toppling over again. He tilted his head, scanning the room until he saw another form huddled against the opposite wall. He blew a few strands of silver hair out of his eyes and scowled into the darkness.

“Who’re you?”

The other man coughed delicately. “I am, well,” he demurred, “I probably shouldn’t tell you my real name--even if your voice is especially delicious. Truly, you must look into a job as a midnight radio DJ or perhaps a sex phone opera--”

“Are you an employee?” Geralt cut in before the man could continue with his truly alarming diatribe. “Why are you here so late?”

As he spoke, he managed to get himself into a sitting position and rested awkwardly against the wall with his bound hands trapped at the middle of his back. The closet was small enough that the position left him with his legs pressed against the stranger’s. It was enough to let him guess that it was a man about the same size as himself although significantly leaner.

“Ah yes...would you believe that I fell asleep while marveling over the wonderful tapestries they have?”

“Hmm.”

“Should you be worried about another victim when those idiots are busy looting the place?” the stranger asked abruptly. “By now, they’ve probably destroyed all manner of beautiful pieces.”

Geralt grunted, tugging at the ropes around his wrists and ankles. “Unless you have a knife, I don’t know how to get out of these ropes.”

“I might actually be able to help with that,” the man said and Geralt could hear him shifting closer. 

He took a breath and scented cedar and some sort of flower a moment before he felt the first brush of warm skin against his pinned hands. He jerked in surprise and forced himself to settle--this wasn’t the time to worry about being in such close space with a stranger. There were bigger issues at hand.

“Alright,” the man continued and Geralt tilted his head as he caught a hint of an accent in the cheerful words, “see if you can reach into the pouch on my belt. There’s a knife in there.”

Geralt hesitated once more. “What did you say your name was again?”

“I didn’t.”

Gritting his teeth, he glanced at the door and weighed his options. Teaming up with a stranger he met in a closet or having to wait until morning to be saved by the next shift. Caught in a closet with a man--there was a joke just waiting to be said by his less tolerant squad mates. Just the thought of Yennefer’s smug expression made him focus and push past his reservations.

Surely this night couldn’t get any worse.

Cautiously, he arched his back so he could extend his arms as far as possible behind him. His fingers gently brushed over a piece of hard leather that must be the man’s belt. He trailed across his hip, shoulders beginning to ache from the awkward angle, and tried to feel for the pouch. He shifted a little more and--

The man yelped, nearly making Geralt startle hard enough to fall over again. He released a breathy laugh, “Um, that’s not my knife.”

A hot flush curled up Geralt’s face and he bit back a groan. Could this day get any worse?

“We have progressed rather quickly, haven’t we? First time meeting and we’re already tied up and caressing each other’s bodies. What an unexpected delight.”

“I wasn’t  _ caressing _ you. I’m trying to get your knife.”

“Sure you were, darling.”

Geralt growled and the man rumbled out a laugh that made his stomach curl with warmth. He ignored his traitorous body and reached back once again. This time he was careful to avoid anywhere...private… and was rewarded with the sensation of a zipper and a small pocket with several tools inside.

“Excellent,” the stranger said, “now cut me loose and I’ll help you get loose.”

With a huff, Geralt got to work cutting the zip ties that bound the other man. Apparently the robbers had been prepared to meet some resistance after all. They’d come prepared to subdue at least one guard and instead found two people who shouldn’t be there. 

The question was: who was the other man caught in their trap?

After a few minutes of uncomfortable stretching to reach the last of the ropes, Geralt made a small sound of triumph when he felt them give way. His relief was shared by the stranger who shifted eagerly to begin pulling off the ties at his ankles. Clever, long fingers plucked the knife from Geralt’s hand and he heard the sound of the rest of the bindings falling apart.

“Ah, much better,” the stranger hummed.

Geralt shifted impatiently, tilting his arms outward. “Now me.”

There was a pause.

“Well, this might be a little awkward.”

“ _ Release me _ ,” Geralt bit out.

The stranger stood quickly and got out of range before Geralt could consider kicking him. “You know I love when you get all growly, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you, love,” he said with a sorrowful lilt to his voice. “Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure the police are called as soon as I’m out.”

“You’re one of them,”Geralt accused.

“Heavens no! Comparing me to that rabble is like comparing a bard to some village drunk with a pair of drums.” The stranger leaned forward until Geralt could feel the warmth of his breath against his cheek. “I am  _ much _ better than them.”

“So you’re a thief,” Geralt growled. Mentally he cursed himself for being stupid enough to help another thief escape. If he’d just stayed quiet and still, the police would have been at least able to capture one of the criminals for questioning. “I should have known better than to trust you.”

The other man hummed thoughtfully. “Well it’s not everyday you meet a charming stranger in a closet, is it?”

Geralt made a disgusted sound.

There was a shuffling sound and he heard the door to the storage room open. He squinted against the light after being so long in the dark and scowled at the darkened figure of a man outlined against it. With the light like it was, Geralt couldn’t make out more than the fact that he was tall, fair skinned, and had dark hair. Which meant he wouldn’t be able to identify him. Fuck.

“Well, now. Aren’t you just  _ lovely _ ?” the thief crooned and Geralt narrowed his eyes in dangerous warning even as he flushed at the open appreciation in the other man’s tone. “I really do feel bad about lying to you. Is there any way I can make it up to you?” Geralt opened his mouth, but the man continued easily, “ _ Besides _ turning myself in?”

Geralt scowled at him, bitter and more irritated than ever about how much of a fuckup this night had become. “I could use a pillow--my ass is getting cold from this tile floor,” he said sarcastically.

The thief nodded, turning his head slightly to look down the hallway. His hands went to the belt around his waist and Geralt watched with interest as he tugged free a long, wicked looking knife. “I’ll see what I can do,” he murmured, clearly distracted by what he saw down the hallway.

Before Geralt could do more than make a noise of protest, the thief shut the door with a firm click, leaving him in the dark once more.

Geralt took the opportunity to curse himself for a fool using everything he’d learned during two tours in the military and through his time as a police officer. How the  _ hell _ had he been so stupid as to assist a criminal escape from the place they were robbing? He’d be lucky if the story didn’t lead to him losing his position as a detective after all the inevitable teasing was over. Yennefer certainly wouldn’t forget it.

He curled his legs up to his chest and rested his forehead against his knees, trying to get comfortable. It would be hours before anyone came looking for him. He might as well get comfortable.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, his head jerked up at the sound of the door opening once again.

Geralt tensed in readiness for another attack from the gang of thieves, but instead found himself gaping up at the man he’d helped set free only a few minutes before. 

“What do you want?” he growled. The thief raised his hand and Geralt abruptly noticed he was carrying a round-- “Is that a  _ pillow _ ?”

“You did say your ass was getting cold. It was the least I could do after tricking you.”

Geralt made an incredulous sound that turned into something close to an indignant squawk when the man leaned forward and tilted him by the shoulders so he could neatly slide the pillow under him. And damn him if it wasn’t more comfortable than sitting on the floor.

“Better?” Geralt snarled wordlessly and the thief chuckled, his fingers reaching up to tuck a few strands of hair behind Geralt’s ear. The tenderness of the gesture confused him and he frowned up at the man who sighed. “I  _ am _ really sorry about all this. I didn’t expect to run into those idiots tonight.”

“So you aren’t working with them?”

“Oh no,” the thief said with a shake of his head, “I find no joy in destroying beautiful things for a profit.”

“Just stealing them.”

The man laughed and Geralt hated how a part of him warmed at the sound. “Indeed. I tend to be more selective in my clientele as well.” He turned to head back to the door with a bow. “Well, this has been a unexpected delight, but I must leave--”

“Wait.” The word was out before the thought registered in his mind and he watched the thief pause in surprise. Geralt licked his lips. “Tell me your name.”

“Why? So you can hunt me down?”

Geralt smiled a wolf’s smile. “I’ll do that regardless--at least with a name I won’t have to keep calling you ‘thief’ in my head.”

The thief stared at him for a long moment, hand still wrapped around the door knob as he prepared to leave. Finally, he turned back--face still in shadows--and Geralt caught a flicker of teeth as he whispered,

“Call me Jaskier.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think and if you'd like to see more between these two!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
